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Should you be thinking about restroom upgrades, it's advisable to avoid employing this German artist for such tasks.

Truly, she's a whiz with a silicone gun, creating intriguing sculptures out of an unusual medium. Yet the more observe the artworks, the stronger you realise that an element is a little off.

Those hefty tubes from the foam she produces stretch past their supports on which they sit, hanging off the edges below. Those twisted tubular forms swell until they split. Some creations leave their acrylic glass box homes entirely, turning into a collector of debris and fibers. It's safe to say the ratings are unlikely to earn favorable.

“I sometimes have the feeling that items seem animated in a room,” remarks the sculptor. Hence I turned to this foam material due to its this very bodily texture and feeling.”

Certainly there’s something rather body horror regarding these sculptures, including the suggestive swelling that protrudes, hernia-like, off its base in the centre of the gallery, or the gut-like spirals made of silicone that rupture resembling bodily failures. On one wall, are mounted images depicting the sculptures seen from various perspectives: resembling squirming organisms observed under magnification, or colonies on culture plates.

“It interests me is how certain elements in our bodies taking place that also have independent existence,” Herfeldt explains. Elements that are invisible or control.”

On the subject of things she can’t control, the poster for the show features a photograph showing a dripping roof in her own studio located in Berlin. It was erected decades ago and, she says, was quickly despised among the community since many historic structures were removed for its development. The place was dilapidated when Herfeldt – who was born in Munich but grew up north of Hamburg before arriving in Berlin in her youth – moved in.

This deteriorating space caused issues to Herfeldt – placing artworks was difficult her pieces without concern they might be damaged – but it was also intriguing. With no building plans on hand, it was unclear the way to fix the malfunctions that arose. When the ceiling panel at the artist's area got thoroughly soaked it fell apart fully, the single remedy meant swapping the panel with a new one – thus repeating the process.

Elsewhere on the property, Herfeldt says the leaking was so bad so multiple drainage containers got placed within the drop ceiling to divert the moisture elsewhere.

I understood that the structure acted as a physical form, a completely flawed entity,” she says.

The situation brought to mind the sci-fi movie, John Carpenter’s debut 1974 film about an AI-powered spacecraft which becomes autonomous. Additionally, observers may note from the show’s title – a trio of references – other cinematic works influenced shaping Herfeldt’s show. These titles refer to the female protagonists from a horror classic, another scary movie and the extraterrestrial saga respectively. The artist references a 1987 essay from a scholar, that describes these “final girls” an original movie concept – female characters isolated to triumph.

These figures are somewhat masculine, on the silent side enabling their survival because she’s quite clever,” she elaborates regarding this trope. No drug use occurs or engage intimately. It is irrelevant who is watching, all empathize with this character.”

The artist identifies a connection between these characters and her sculptures – things that are just about maintaining position under strain they face. So is her work really concerning societal collapse beyond merely leaky ceilings? Because like so many institutions, such components meant to insulate and guard us from damage in fact are decaying around us.

“Absolutely,” responds the artist.

Before finding inspiration using foam materials, the artist worked with other unusual materials. Previous exhibitions have involved organic-looking pieces made from a synthetic material found in within outdoor gear or in coats. Similarly, one finds the sense such unusual creations seem lifelike – certain pieces are folded resembling moving larvae, pieces hang loosely on vertical planes or extend through entries gathering grime from contact (Herfeldt encourages audiences to interact and dirty her art). Like the silicone sculptures, those fabric pieces are similarly displayed in – and breaking out of – budget-style display enclosures. The pieces are deliberately unappealing, and that's the essence.

“They have a specific look which makes one compelled by, yet simultaneously being quite repulsive,” the artist comments grinning. “The art aims for invisible, however, it is very present.”

Herfeldt is not making work to make you feel relaxation or aesthetically soothed. Instead, she aims for discomfort, odd, or even humor. And if there's something wet dripping from above too, consider yourself you haven’t been warned.